


Exceptions and the Rules They Break

by therealaelora



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Minor Canonical Character(s)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-09-04
Updated: 2012-09-06
Packaged: 2017-11-13 12:58:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/503789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/therealaelora/pseuds/therealaelora
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel moves to Lawrence, Kansas for a position as a Reverend with his wife and daughter, only to find himself falling in love with the porn star across the street.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Sometimes God Just Knows

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know how frequently I'll update, but I promise it won't be long between updates. I'd also like to thank my beta for putting up with me and my craziness. I appreciate any kind of comments/suggestions, and if anyone's interested in doing art for this later on, please let me know! With that, I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I love writing it!

"Oh, daddy, it's so pretty! Do we really get to live here?" Claire asked, her blonde hair flying around her as she bounced up and down excitedly, looking up at her father with wide eyes.

Castiel smiled down at his daughter, putting his hand on her tiny shoulder and pulling her to his side. "We sure do, honey." They both looked up at the beautiful white house in front of them. There was a wraparound porch and a small balcony for the master bedroom upstairs. A white fence protected a perfectly trimmed lawn with bushes and flowers mirrored on either side of the path that led up to the house. Their house.

A woman sidled up to Castiel's other side, pressing a kiss to his shoulder. "It's even more beautiful than in the photos."

"It sure is." Castiel murmured, kissing Amelia on the forehead softly.

"I'm gonna be the first one inside!" Claire chimed, tearing away from her father and running down the path and up to the front door, only to find it locked. Her pink summer dress flared as she spun around to pout at her parents.

Castiel chuckled and pulled out a key from his pants pocket. "Forget something, princess?"

Claire hurried back, took the key and beamed up at him before dashing back to the door and throwing it open, immediately rushing up the wooden stairs with a delighted squeal.

"Claire, honey, please be careful!" Amelia called, worry filling her voice.

Castiel put his shoulder around his wife. "Oh, Amelia, she'll be fine. Let her have her fun." They stood there for a moment, looking up at the house, before Castiel rubbed the side of her arm. "Why don't we start bringing the boxes in?"

After ten minutes of he and his wife moving box after box into their new house, something caught Castiel's attention in the corner of his eye, and, when he turned to look, his heart must have skipped a beat,  because across the street was the most beautiful man Castiel had ever seen.

The man had messy brown hair, even though it looked perfect that way. He had light hazel eyes that seemed to be smiling, and speaking of smiles, he had the biggest, most wonderful smile Castiel had ever seen, pale lips that covered straight white teeth. Broad shoulders led to strong arms and long, long fingers, which held the morning newspaper. His thermal shirt clung to his chest almost as tightly as the jeans he was wearing clung to his slender hips, and he was barefoot and how was it even possible that feet could be so pretty?

And then Amelia was nudging him with her elbow and Castiel was snapped out of his gawking and he ducked his head. "Sorry hon." As he followed his wife into the house, he stole one last glance just time to see the man staring back at him from his front door, a slight smile on his face before he shut the door behind him. Heart racing, Castiel put the last box on the floor next to the door and slammed it shut. He grasped the cross around his neck and took a deep breath, letting out a muttered prayer.

~

(A month earlier.)

"Reverend Michael, you wished to see me?" Castiel poked his head through the opening of the office door.

"Ah, yes, Pastor Collins! Please, come in."

Castiel stepped in and shut the door behind him softly, holding his Bible with two hands in front of him. Reverend Michael gestured for him to take a seat and Castiel acquiesced, sitting up straight and looking at Reverend Michael patiently.

Reverend Michael leaned back in his worn chair and studied Castiel for a minute before speaking. "How would you feel about taking a job as a Reverend over in Lawrence, Kansas?"

At first, Castiel smiled excitedly. "Me, a Reverend?" However, as he processed the rest of the sentence, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "Wait, Kansas? Why Kansas?" He cocked his head to the side. "Am I no longer needed here, Reverend Michael?"

"It's not so much that you're not needed as...not welcome." Reverend Michael replied simply, crossing his fingers across his stomach as he leaned back in his chair.

Blatant shock flashed across Castiel's face. "I...I don't understand. Have I done something wrong?" Castiel could not think of anything he had done to anger God, much less Reverend Michael...

"Not as of late, no, Castiel; however certain...aspects of your past were brought up and, well," Reverend Michael gave him a wide smile that Castiel assumed was supposed to seem regretful but only came across as mildly malicious. "I just don't feel like you belong here, in my church."

Castiel slumped back against the wood of the chair he was sitting in, feeling like he was going to throw up. Praying Reverend Michael wasn't talking about what Castiel thought he was talking about, he gathered enough courage to stammer, "Please, Reverend Michael, I...what aspects?"

Reverend Michael's face turned cold, presentation thrown out the window. "Oh, I think you know what aspects I speak of, Castiel."

_Castiel was pressed up against the lockers, trapped between metal and man. Very cold, very hard metal and very hot, very hard man. "W-what are you-" Castiel was silenced with a kiss from the boy pinning him against the wall. Castiel stiffened, eyes wide and body frozen. He held his arms up as if gesturing to an unseen audience, 'He's doing it, not me!', shaking in apprehension. 'This is wrong, this is wrong, God did not create man to kiss man,' he repeated to himself in his head, but found to his horror that he wasn't making any effort to push the boy away. Just as he went to remedy this, the boy forced Castiel's lips open and Castiel couldn't help his eyes from fluttering shut, welcoming the other boy's tongue in with a warm sigh. Then, like a bolt of lightning had struck him, he remembered the cross around his neck and the sermon he had just come back from the day before, and he shoved the boy away, shirt slightly askew and breath coming in short bursts. "S-stay away from me!" Castiel stammered, turning away with tears in his eyes. "Just, please-" With sobs threatening to explode, he bolted down the hall. The boy called his name desperately, and although Castiel would never admit it to anyone, not even himself, a small part of himself wanted to run back to the boy and finish what they had started._

Castiel hung his head, and it felt like those same tears were threatening to fall now. "I-it was a mistake, Reverend Michael, one I regret and repent for every day, Lord knows, and one I do not intend to ever repeat, believe me." He looked up, his eyes wide with pleading. "Please, do not kick me out of the church, Reverend Michael. It's all I know."

"Oh, Castiel, you aren't being kicked out of the church itself, just this one." Reverend Michael clarified, and somehow that small fact didn't make Castiel feel any better. Reverend Michael sighed and stood up, walking over to Castiel to place a hand on his shoulder. "I know you regret and repent for it, and I hope you never do repeat it; you have gambled your chances of walking into Salvation enough. I just feel as though this is not the place where you should be trying to better your sins. I am not kicking you out; merely moving you to a place where I feel like you can make a difference, both in the community and in your own soul." He smiled. "Think of it not as a punishment, but as a chance for you to do things right. Really right."

A tear slipped down Castiel's cheek and he nodded, sniffing. "Yes, Reverend, you're absolutely right." He looked into Reverend Michael's eyes with his own watery blue ones. "This is not the place for me."

~

"Castiel, just hold on a moment, please." Amelia begged, standing next to the window as she looked over at Castiel in bewilderment. "I still don't understand; why do you want to move to Kansas?"

Castiel was sitting across the room on the couch, hands clasped and eyes downcast. "I told you, a church in Lawrence has offered me a Reverend position there, and I would just like to take it."

Amelia stepped forward and knelt in front of Castiel, putting her hands around his. She looked at him, her face kind and open. "Castiel, I can tell when something has upset you." Slowly, Castiel made himself look his wife in the face. She put one hand on his cheek. "What has upset you so much that you wish to move from our home here?"

Castiel turned his head away, his eyes looking down again. "This is not our home, Amelia. Not anymore."

~

"I am so glad you had Gabriel move in the furniture before we got here," Amelia sighed loudly from the living room. "I don't think I can move, what with all this unpacking."

Castiel walked into the living room and looked at the mess around him. Shelves were half-filled with books and wires and DVDs, and various knick knacks lay littered on the soft carpet, and his wife lounged on the black leather couch, covering her eyes with her hands. He smiled as he looked at her; she was so beautiful. He tiptoed over behind the arm of the couch where her head was and kissed the back of her hands, emitting a giggle from her in response. "Well, it wasn't an entirely unselfish act on his part," he murmured into her hand. "He fully expects a thank-you dinner as repayment for his services."

Amelia wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him down so his nose was touching hers. "Well, I'm sure we can arrange a Sunday dinner just for your dear brother."

As she lifted her lips up for a kiss, the doorbell rang. Castiel straightened to go answer the front door. "I'll get it, you just lay there and let me do all the work." He called over his shoulder teasingly, still smiling as he opened the door and came face to face with the man from across the street.

Today, the man was wearing a white short-sleeve V-neck that was speckled here and there with car grease, smiling at him broadly, lips pulling back to reveal his perfect teeth. A necklace was wrapped around his smooth neck, a strange charm dangling from it. He was leaning against their door frame, his face barely a foot and a half away from Castiel's. He held a dirty washcloth in that hand while his other hand rested on his hip, slender fingers placed along his hipbone. 

"Hey there, I saw you move in yesterday and thought I'd stop by and introduce myself." The man's voice was rough and deep, but light in its words. The man held out his free hand. "I'm Dean. Dean Winchester. I live there, right across the street." 

He twisted around to point to his house which was right across the street, just like Castiel remembered. Right across from his house. Dean lived right across from Castiel. 

"...you know, I've only worked on cars today; I swear you won't catch anything." Dean added jokingly, causing Castiel to snap out of his thoughts and hurriedly lifted his hand to shake Dean's. Castiel clasped Dean's hand tightly, loving the feel of Dean's rough hands enveloping his own.

"Nice to meet you, Dean," Castiel said, feeling a smile spread across his face in spite of himself "I'm Castiel Collins."

"Castiel, huh? Hell of a name you got there; mind if I just call you Cas?"

"Oh, I wouldn't try that, he can't stand that nickname," Amelia interrupted good naturedly, appearing next to Castiel. "And you are...?"

Dean's smile widened as he raised his eyebrows at Castiel. "Oh, a wife?" Castiel could have sworn for an instant that Dean had looked more disappointed than surprised, but Dean had already turned his attention to Amelia. "Dean Winchester, ma'am. My name isn't as beautiful as yours, I'm afraid. It fits you though, seriously." He winked at her before continuing. "I woulda stopped by yesterday, but you all seemed so busy I figured I'd wait a day before I graced you with a visit."

Amelia laughed and put her arm around Castiel's waist, causing him to jump in alarm, but he quickly regained his composure and smiled right back at his new neighbour.

"Well, we're glad you decided to visit. This seems like a great neighbourhood."

The sound of footsteps pattering down the stairs announced Claire's arrival, and sure enough, she poked her head through the space between her parent's sides, looking up at Dean curiously. "Who're you?" She asked, eyeing him suspiciously.

Dean crossed his arms and raised his eyebrow at her. "I could ask you the same thing."

Claire crossed her arms as well and fixed him with a stern stare. "I asked first."

"Fair enough," Dean chuckled. "I'm Dean, and you must be a princess, with a face like that."

Claire's fierce exterior melted and she smiled shyly, nodding as she looked down at her feet. "You can't tell anyone I'm a princess though, okay? I might get kidnapped."

"Oh, I wouldn't dream of it, darlin'," Dean said solemnly, bowing slightly. Claire giggled and then ran off into the house again. Dean straightened and chuckled again before taking a step back. "Well, I don't wanna waste any more of your time, I'm sure you have a lotta unpacking to do, I just wanted to drop by and say hello is all!' His eyes fell on Castiel, who stared back.

Right as Castiel opened his mouth to say something, Amelia beat him to it. "Oh, no, you're fine! We do have some unpacking to do, but we'd love to have dinner sometime, wouldn't we hon?" She looked up at Castiel.

Castiel tried to regain use of his mouth. "I-yes, we'd love to." He smiled nervously, his heart beating a bit faster than it had been before.

Dean's face brightened. "Well, it just so happens that I'm having my monthly barbecue party this Saturday; you're all more than welcome to come as my honoured guests." Although he was speaking to Claire, his eyes kept flitting to Castiel's, who swallowed nervously.

"That sounds wonderful! Count us in!" Amelia beamed, and Dean's smile couldn't have gotten any wider.

"Great. I'll see you three on Saturday then." He stepped down the stairs to the path and waved before walking back across the street to his garage.

Amelia smiled and shut the door behind him, giving Castiel a quick peck on the cheek before walking into the living room. "Hon, come help me finish setting up the living room, would you?"

Castiel felt something inside of him spark, like the start of something big, and he lightly brushing his fingers on his cross necklace before heading into the living room. "Of course."

As he knelt down and began unpacking various knickknacks, Amelia hugged him from behind. "He seems nice. I hope you two can become friends, you need a good friend honey."

"God has already blessed me with a wonderful wife and child, how could I ask for any more than that?"

Amelia leaned her head down and pressed her forehead to his. "Sometimes we don't need to ask these things; God just knows."

Castiel tried to smile, but he cringed at the thought of whatever else God might know.


	2. Rusty People Skills

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter is where things really start to get interesting; or at least, I think so. Enjoy!

Castiel sat with his arms crossed on his knees on the steps to the freshly sanded wooden porch in Dean Winchester's backyard, watching people socialise around him. It seemed like the entire neighbourhood was packed into the spacious green area, complete with a badminton net dead centre, a stone fire pit, and an intricate wooden gazebo off in the corner by some trees that gave half of it shade. People conferred in groups here and there, joking and laughing while children chased each other around the grass, Claire being one of them. She was wearing her favourite blue dress and white sandals, her wavy hair flowing in the wind as she fiercely tackled a small boy to the ground. Castiel stifled a snort and shook his head affectionately. She was going to be trouble when she got older.

"What's so funny?"

Castiel started, looking behind him. Dean was staring at him in curiosity. Castiel smiled and pointed to Claire, who was now jumping up and down in triumph, as the boy had clearly given in. "Claire. She's just so energetic and outgoing, I'm glad she's fitting in so well already."

"Wish I could say the same for you," Dean mused, sitting down next to Castiel and offering him a beer bottle, which Castiel accepted gratefully.

"What do you mean?"

"Well," Dean leaned in, as if he were about to tell Castiel a conspiratorial secret. "I don't know if they teach you this where you're from, but normally the whole point of barbecues is to branch out, get to know people, make friends. Hell if I've seen you move from this spot since Amelia left you here."

Castiel smiled serenely. "I like socialising well enough, I just like for it to happen naturally. I don't like circulating as if I'm at some terrible conference where we're forced to interact; I prefer to meet people as they come."

Dean whistled. "You are totally mellow for a man of God. You are the new preacher here, right?"

"As I live and breathe." Castiel affirmed, a note of pride in his voice.

"Interesting," Dean mumbled into his bottle as he took a swig, eyeing Castiel openly.

Castiel looked away under Dean's gaze, feeling his cheeks burn. "What?"

"Oh, nothin'," Dean replied quickly. "I've just never been much of a churchgoer myself."

"Oh," Castiel was quiet before looking sideways at Dean. "Do you believe in God?"

Dean smiled slightly, studying his hands intently before looking up at Castiel through his eyelashes. "Will you get up and walk away if I say no?"

Castiel laughed lightly. "No, Dean, I will not walk away if you say no."

"Oh, good," Dean sighed in exaggerated relief. "Well, there you go then."

They fell into silence for a moment as they drank their beers, the sound of plates clattering and voices chattering surrounding them comfortably. Finally Castiel cleared his throat. "If you don't mind my asking...why not?"

It was Dean's turn to look at him in confusion. "Why not what?"

"Why don't you believe in God?" Castiel looked at him full on now, staring at him, as if trying to read his mind.

This time it was Dean who looked away, swallowing quickly before he shrugged and gave him a sad smile. "Never really had a good reason to."

Castiel's heart felt like it would break at Dean's expression and he didn't know what to do, because in all his years of life another person's sadness had never affected him like this before. Dean's eyes were focused on his beer, his fingers restless as he held it a little tighter than he needed to. It was Dean's eyes that got to Castiel the most; the hazel in them was faded, as if Dean was remembering a once-forgotten dream that he couldn't escape, the remnants of a regret he'd tried to bury deep inside. Castiel felt guilt wash over him like a tide, and he felt responsible for bringing this sudden change upon Dean. He didn't think he'd ever wanted to make someone smile more than he did right now. Of course, as a Father, people came to him with their problems and need for advice and of course Castiel sympathised with them and felt for them, but not like this; this was like Castiel had taken a sneak peak at Dean's soul and found a broken mess underneath all of that flirtatiousness and bravado, and it made him inexplicably desolate.

"I'm sorry, Dean." Castiel apologised, wishing he wasn't as socially inept as he was.

In the thirty seconds it had taken for this exchange to happen, Dean had pulled himself together and was sitting up straight again, smiling over at him. "No need to apologise, Cas." He took another drink before realising his mistake. "Shit, sorry, your wife mentioned you hate that nickname."

Castiel leaned back on his elbows against the sanded wood porch and looked up at the sky thoughtfully. "The Lord says that there are exceptions to every rule." He glanced over at Dean. "I don't mind it so much when you say it."

Dean's expression was unreadable as they looked at each other for what seemed like forever, and Castiel felt a warmth in his chest begin to flicker as a smile threatened to take over his lips, but before it could even get the chance, a memory flashed before his eyes.

_Castiel backed into the living room, shaking. "Father, whatever you heard-"_

_"Don't you 'father' me, boy!" Castiel's father snapped angrily, slamming his newspaper on the coffee table. "I don't want to hear a word out of your mouth! Do you know that the stunt you pulled today nearly ruined everything I've worked for here? I'm a good Christian man, and we are a good Christian family, and I raised you to know that every type of sin is wrong, didn't I?" Castiel nodded meekly, feeling tears wallowing in his eyes. "How do you think it makes me look when my own son is caught locking lips with another man? Another man, Castiel! Have you learned nothing from your studies? Do you understood that while God is good, he is also unforgiving of those who sin against him? Do you realise that you sinned against our Lord and Saviour today, Castiel?"_

_Castiel couldn't talk, the lump in his throat was too big and his head was pounding with remorse. He didn't know whether to nod or shake his head, so he just stood there, staring up at his father silently._

_His father rubbed the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath. "Castiel, you know that your mother and I love you, and we know that children make mistakes. So, I just want you to look me in the eyes and promise me that that's all this was, alright? Then it's forgotten and we can set about making this right." He stepped in front of Castiel and looked down at him, anxiety pinned on his weary face. "Just promise me that, Castiel."_

_Swallowing very hard, and with tears in his eyes, Castiel looked his father in the eye and spoke his first real lie. "It was a mistake. I'm sorry."_

Nearly spilling what remained of his drink, Castiel stood abruptly, turning his back to Dean as his heart raced. "I-it's getting late, and I have my first sermon to give tomorrow, I should go." Without waiting for Dean to say anything, he left to find his wife and daughter, and Dean didn't bother to try and approach him again as they left the barbecue and headed across the street.

Dean sighed and smiled sadly at his bottle. 'Well, fuck.' He thought to himself, finishing his beer and heading into the crowd to talk with the rest of his neighbours.

As Castiel got ready for bed that night, he couldn't get rid of the bad feeling in his mouth, no matter how many times he brushed his teeth. It tasted of ash and disappointment and it tainted his tongue like a bad aftertaste. It had been a long time since he'd made a friend, and just when it seemed like he'd been doing fine, Castiel had to go and mess everything up. Thankfully he'd caught himself before he did something really bad, but it had been close. 'Not close enough.' a voice in the back of his head murmured, and he hurried to rid himself of the thought, running a hand through his hair. He would just have to be more careful if he wanted to be Dean's friend is all; and he really wanted to be Dean's friend.

~

"Here honey, your collar is crooked." Amelia fretted, fussing over her husband's shirt and white collar.

Castiel grabbed her hands and squeezed them. "Amelia, it's fine. Don't you start to get nervous, because then I'll get nervous and poor Claire over here will have no choice but to knock some sense into us, right hon?" He turned to look at his daughter, who grinned and nodded her head vigorously. Castiel looked back to Amelia. "There's no reason to panic, I've done this a thousand times."

"I know honey, you're gonna do great."

They all headed out to their red Nissan Juke, Castiel approaching it warily before cautiously getting into the passenger seat. Amelia laughed. "You're never going to get used to riding in cars, are you?"

Castiel looked around himself uncomfortably. "I just...I prefer walking. Or biking. Even buses seem preferably to cars."

Amelia patted his leg comfortingly and backed out of the driveway. "Well, I promise you'll be just fine."

As they drove down the street, Castiel couldn't help but turn his head to look at Dean's house, a pang of disappointment striking him when he saw that Dean's black car was still in the driveway. Castiel faced forward in his seat and stared out the window the rest of the ride. He didn't know what he had expected anyway; Dean wasn't much of a churchgoing man.

~

Castiel walked out of his house dressed in blue sports shorts and a white t-shirt, looking around and unable to stop a smile from spreading on his face. Church had gone well today; he had been a little nervous of course, but soon enough he had gotten the hang of it and everyone seemed to really liked his service, so he was pleased. He had another service to do later tonight, which should be easy going, so for now he was going to enjoy this beautiful Sunday and go on a jog. Castiel sat on his porch, tied up his shoes and put his headphones in, clipping his mp3 player to the inside of his shorts before stretching briefly, the warm summer air tickling the small strip of skin that showed as he stretched his arms up. With that, he bounded off the steps leading to his house and headed down the sidewalk.

As he jogged, he realised that tomorrow was his first day of work at his new job. Thankfully, Gabriel had also been able to give Castiel a job at the hardware store he owned. When they were kids, Castiel and Gabriel had often spoken of building huge houses for work, but so far Gabriel had come the closest to accomplishing that dream. Unlike Castiel, Gabriel had been more steadfast in his resilience to their father's insistence that they dedicate all time and energy into the church, and even after their father had...well, even then, Castiel had figured that doing as his father wanted was the only way to make up for the sins he had committed.

He could feel a sad mood coming on and, shaking his head, he tried to change his train of thought and focus on his jog, which turned out to be the better choice because he had found himself jogging through a beautiful park that wrapped around a crystal clear lake. The trees along the bank gave just enough shade to the sidewalk to make the air a perfectly manageable temperature, a bonus Castiel welcomed wholeheartedly. The park was quiet, save for the sound of kids playing at a playground a little ways away and the wind rustling by. The smell of asphalt and grass filled his nose, and he took a deep breath, smiling.

Castiel came to a stop and checked his pulse before walking over to a water fountain, wiping his mouth of little droplets that made their way to his lips. He found his mind wandering again, and, as much as he didn't want to dwell on it, he did feel bad for leaving Dean so abruptly yesterday. All Dean had tried to do was make him feel welcome and Castiel had returned the favour by being rude. He didn't know why the whole thing had been bothering him so much (it was all he'd tried not to think about last night after the barbecue). Something in the way Dean had looked at him and the way Castiel already felt perfectly at ease with him had gotten to him, which was saying something, considering Castiel's "people skills" were "rusty", as Claire had oh-so kindly put it. 'Maybe it's more than social etiquette...' The notion echoed in his mind, and he shook his head fervently. No, no it wasn't. It wasn't anything more than Castiel wanting to make a friend for once and not screw it all up.

"Hey, fancy seeing you here!"

His heartbeat sped up at the too-familiar voice, but Castiel blamed it on the exercise. Turning to face the source of the greeting, Castiel pulled his headphones out and looked up slightly at Dean's face. It was flushed red a little from the heat, and he was smiling.

"Why is finding me here so surprising?" Castiel cocked his head in interest.

A small smile played across Dean's face and he shrugged, seeing as he couldn't move his hands since they were busy holding groceries. "Oh, not surprising per se, I just figured you'd be home with the family. It is Sunday, isn't it?" His tone was light and friendly, but there was an element to it, as though testing the waters with how far he could take those kinds of jokes, jokes about Castiel's religion.

Thankfully, Castiel felt safe in his faith. "Sunday usually does follow Saturday, doesn't it?" he retorted in a teasing tone. His eyes widened a bit at Dean's laugh. He'd heard it before-or at least thought he had-but this one was different. It was open, and full of...joy. If it didn't feel so weird to admit, it might have become Castiel's new favourite sound.

"Yeah, I suppose it does." Dean's expression slowly turned troubled as his laughter faded. "Hey, about last night...I wanted to say I'm sorry, for whatever it was that made you freak out like that." He didn't meet Castiel's eyes, but Castiel had a feeling Dean knew exactly what set him off. "I just don't want..." He paused again, and Castiel stopped breathing for a moment as they looked at each other, and it felt like static was crackling in the heated air between them. Abruptly, Dean's demeanour changed; the joking tone was back, and the moment was gone, unsatisfied. "Anyway, I just hope this doesn't mean you're not coming to my barbecues anymore. I hate to admit it, but I think you need my coaching on how to interact properly at social get-togethers."

Castiel looked at Dean's lips, and then quickly back down to his shoes intently. "Of course I'll still come. You're the first person I've felt like I can actually be friends with here, I'm not going to give up a good thing. Besides," he added quickly, not wanting to make the situation serious again. "Amelia would throw a fit if she found out I couldn't make at least one friend; she very nearly threw a party when she saw us talking yesterday."

Dean chuckled, and Castiel knew Dean was glad for the subject change. "I take it you're really not that big of a people person?"

"No, I'm afraid not," Castiel admitted. "Even my daughter tells me I have much to learn in terms of human interaction."

Dean looked at Castiel and his eyes turned soft. "Well, you seem to be doin' just fine with me."

A wave of pleasure washed over him, and Castiel discovered that he didn't know where to look, so he fiddled with his headphones and glanced at the trees around them before looking at Dean, who rearranged his hold on his groceries.

"Well, I should get these home."

Castiel brightened a little. "Here, let me help you."

Dean raised an eyebrow. "Don't you wanna finish your jog?"

Grabbing a bag out of Dean's arm, Castiel smiled peacefully. "God always teaches us that it is better to help others than ourselves." He began walking towards their neighbourhood, and Dean immediately fell in step beside him.

The walk was quiet, but not uncomfortable. Castiel enjoyed being near Dean. There was something about the man that put Castiel at ease, and he found himself not worrying about much when he was with him. For the first time, he felt like he actually belonged, which sounded stupid to Castiel, but that didn't take away the truth behind the sentiment.

They walked up the porch steps to Dean's house, Dean wiggling his fingers in his jean pocket to get his keys. Castiel couldn't help but watch his fingers move; they were so elegant, perfect in their movements, and Castiel could see Dean's hip bones protruding slightly above the waist of his torn jeans...his face flushed and looked away as Dean finally unlocked the door.

"Sorry 'bout the mess," Dean called over his shoulder as he headed into the kitchen. "Livin' alone, I don't think too much about keeping up appearances if I'm the only one seeing the place."

Castiel hesitated before stepping inside, feeling a little panicky. 'Relax,' he told himself. 'You're just helping a neighbour with their groceries.' Taking a deep breath, Castiel shut the door behind him, looking around.

Dean's house was certainly lived in. Plates and bottles littered every possible flat surface in the living room, and the place was covered with tools and papers and clothes and random knick knacks here and there, and a small television was pressed up against the middle of the back wall. It smelled like whiskey and leather, a smell not at all unwelcome. It smelled...like Dean.

As Castiel worked his way to follow Dean into the kitchen, his eyes fell on a single shelf in the corner of the living room, barely noticeable. There were three photographs in worn frames, but clean of dust in comparison to the wood they were perched on. The one on the left showed Dean holding a giant of a guy in a headlock, ruffling his hair while who Castiel could only assume was Dean's brother aimed a punch in Dean's stomach. Castiel smiled and looked at the next one. The sun was shining on Dean, sitting in his car on the side of a dirt road, grinning broadly and flipping the camera off. He looked young, maybe seventeen or eighteen, bright and full of life. Heart warm, Castiel looked at the next one, and his eyebrows furrowed. In the middle was Dean, his arms slung around an older man who was obviously his father and Sasquatch guy. Their father's smile was terse and forced, and Sasquatch wasn't even smiling at all, but there in the middle was Dean, putting on a huge smile as he held his family together. There was no mother to be seen in any of the photos.

Castiel looked around the corner at Dean, who's back was to him as he put away food in the refrigerator, and then back at the photograph before walking into the kitchen, setting the bag on the counter.

Dean smiled at him and continued to put things away, and Castiel watched him, a sad look on his face. What was so bad that it had to be shoved down and hidden in a bottle? Even now, putting away food in cabinets, there was something in Dean's eyes that Castiel hadn't seen before, and it made him irrationally upset to see it now.

"You just gonna watch or are you gonna do something about it?"

There was a screeching sound as Castiel accidentally backed into a kitchen chair, flustered. "I-I-do something about what?" he stammered.

Turning around, Dean fixed him with a look so intense that Castiel's stomach clenched and his heartbeat sped up, and this time he couldn't blame it on jogging. He felt like the world had just zoomed in on this small little kitchen in Lawrence, Kansas, and that the whole world was watching them right now, and yet he felt the most alone he'd ever felt. Dean took a step towards him, licked his lips, and said slowly, "Well..." Castiel's breath hitched as Dean's breath washed over him, warm and familiar-smelling. The man paused before grinning like an idiot. "I just figured there was something on my face, what with the way you were staring me down."

Castiel felt like a balloon had been deflated right in his face, and he didn't know whether to be relieved or angry. He tried to be relieved, but something kept tugging at him; that look in Dean's eyes...

"There wasn't anything on your face," Castiel scoffed immediately. "I simply...zoned out."

Dean made a skeptical 'ah'ing sound, turning away to shove the paper bags under the sink and then looking contemplatively at Castiel from the counter.

Castiel squirmed under his gaze, still a little let down but trying to play it off. "Is there something on my face?" he prompted casually.

"Hm? Oh, no, I was just zoning out." Dean smirked at him and Castiel wanted to smack them both in the face, but mostly himself. Well, maybe Dean a little bit more.

The ticking of a clock caught Castiel's attention, and his eyes widened. "Is it five o'clock already? I have to go help Claire get ready for her first day of school tomorrow!”

Dean's face fell for half a second before shrugging. "Oh, okay. Well, I guess I'll just go work on my baby then."

"Your baby?" Castiel couldn't help but tilt his head in curiosity again.

A proud smile spread on Dean's face, his eyes twinkling. "Yup, my baby. '67 Chevy Impala. Bought it off my dad when I was eighteen years old, worked for every penny and she's been worth 'em all."

Castiel laughed. "Well, I'll leave you to it then." He turned to leave and right when he reached the door, he looked over his shoulder and back at Dean. The man was still leaning against the counter, staring at him, his face unreadable (a state Castiel found himself disliking more and more). He stood like that, hand frozen on the door handle, before he remembered where he was and where he should be, which was not here, staring at Dean, and he left without a word.

Amelia smiled at him from the couch as he walked through the front door. "Hey hon, you look exhausted, did you jog halfway to Colorado or something?"

Castiel looked over at his wife, but all he could see was Dean's tanned face, staring at him with deep hazel eyes. He swallowed and nodded, putting on a smile. "Yeah, something like that."


End file.
